


Trigger Finger

by orphan_account



Series: Souls in Resonance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental dirty touching, And Lance's probably unhealthy Keith obsession, Awkward Boners, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Soul Eater Fusion, is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t fair. First Keith managed to get everyone acting like he was the best weapon around and now he was after the best Meister too? And fine, everyone knew Shiro was amazing at close quarters combat, they’d all seen him at field day and during the skills test, and Keith was a sword and shield and Lance was a fucking rifle but so the fuck what?</p><p>The Soul Eater AU no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trigger Finger

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Lance in his weapon form was...trippy. It probably reads trippy.

 

Lance McClain was a lot of things. Smart, devilishly handsome, a genuinely nice guy, incredibly modest...and he was a bayard (once upon a time they’d been called demon weapons but someone had decided that implication was too negative.) A rifle, to be exactly. Or...well, he probably was. He’d never fully changed, which was completely normal considering he hadn’t known he was a weapon until a month ago, but what he had seen, a long black barrel and scope he was pretty sure he was a rifle. 

He was also in great shape, as anyone who looked upon him could tell. He wasn’t the sort to get easily winded just by a few flights of stairs or anything. 

But the stairs at the Weapon-Meister Academy were not just a few flights. It was more like...a few dozen flights. Hundreds of steps laid behind Lance and what seemed like a thousand more stretched ahead of him. He stopped, breathing hard and let his duffle bag drop to the ground. If he’d realized the school, a huge castle looking building in gleaming whites and blues with four surrounding towers in the same style, was so stupidly far up he would have brought water. 

Or spent time on a stairmaster getting prepared for this. 

Was it some kind of test? Only people who could make it to the stop of this hellish climb were worthy of attending the school? Because if so maybe he just wanted to go home. Not that Lance was the sort of person to give up easily but...this was a nightmare. Was there no easier way to get this done? Like an elevator somewhere? 

There were other students, at least he assumed they were students, climbing the stairs as well. Some seemed to be just as bad off as he was and others were making the stairs two at a time and looking like they were having a great time. 

Lance silently hoped they all tripped and fell. 

Jerks. 

He slumped down to sit down and wipe some of the sweat from his brow, eyes sliding shut as he leaned back over the steps. People kept milling past, chattering excitedly, but Lance blocked it all out.  Between the blistering heat and all these steps he was basically drowning in his own sweat. If the exhaustion didn’t kill him dehydration would. And the end couldn’t come soon enough.

He felt the air change as a shadow fell over him. It didn’t do much to combat the heat but it wasn’t unappreciated. Lane cracked open an eye to squint at whatever had decided to stop next to him.

“Hey,” The guy standing above him was tall and broad with thick arms shown off by a criminally tight t-shirt. One of his arms was covered in overlapping black ink that formed interlocking gears, springs, and coils that followed the shape of his arm while seemingly weaving in and out of his skin. His black hair was cut short on the sides and longer on top, with an odd patch of white hanging into his dark eyes, and his skin was a light amber. 

If Lance hadn’t been well past the whole ‘holy shit am I bi?’ crisis in his life this guy would have kickstarted it. The answer was yes, super hella bi and, as of five seconds ago, into tall built dudes with weird hair and tattoos. Super super into them. 

“You okay?” 

“Um.” Lance said, blinking rapidly. “Yes?” 

The guy tilted his head to the side, smile growing. “Well don’t give up yet. You’re over halfway there already.” 

A hand was thrust out towards him and, after a beat in which he just stared at the large hand in front of his face, Lance reached for it. He was hauled up to his feet, the other...student?- Yeah, probably, he had the same ‘V’ shaped pin Lance did, though his was black instead of blue, fixed to the front of his shirt- yanking him up like he weighed nothing. 

Lance stomach flipped uncomfortably. 

“Shiro, come on.” Lance glanced to the side to see another boy, about Lance’s height was longer dark hair and a sour expression on his face. His eyes, an odd shade of purple, narrowed in obvious irritation when they caught Lance’s gaze. 

Shiro nodded as he dropped Lance’s hand. “See you at the top.” 

He flashed him another smile then hurried towards the other, shoving him lightly once he was close enough. Lance watched them head up the stairs rapidly then looked down at his hand. He could still feel the echo of that warm press and rough fingers against his skin. He flexed his fingers then, shaking his head, reached to scoop his bag back up. 

‘See you at the top’ huh? 

He could do that. 

\---

Lance watched Keith lean over the table Shiro was sitting at and slouched deeper in his seat with a scowl. He’d been at the academy for all of a month and the only thing he was certain of was that he hated Keith. Hated literally everything about him, including his stupid hair and shitty attitude. Everyone thought he was cool and ‘aloof’ (or least a lot of the girls and a not small number of the boys in their year did) but Lance was pretty sure he was weird and anti-social. 

The only person Lance ever say him really talking to for any length of time was Shiro, which was bullshit. People were pairing off, forming weapon-meister teams, and no one else could even get close to Shiro to see if they were compatible. 

Supposedly Shiro and Keith were friends from before and it seemed like a forgone conclusion that they’d be partners when the time came to announce who they’d paired off with. No one else was even really trying, though the fact Keith gave any weapon who got near Shiro the stink eye didn’t help. 

It wasn’t fair. First Keith managed to get everyone acting like he was the best weapon around and now he was after the best Meister too? And fine, everyone knew Shiro was amazing at close quarters combat, they’d all seen him at field day and during the skills test, and Keith was a sword and shield and Lance was a fucking rifle but so the fuck what? 

Lance was awesome and he was going to get the hang of changing fully sooner rather than later and then he’d show Keith who the best weapon around was! Anyone, even Shiro, would have been lucky to have him. 

Not that anyone seemed interested. No one had even asked to try and hold him since the first day when he’d been unable to change more that his leg at will (and toppled over because suddenly holding up his weight on a rifle barrel was not easy.). But that was their loss. 

Kind of like how no one was interested in Hunk, another weapon. His other form was a huge blaster cannon and, as far as Lance could tell, no one in their class thought they had the strength to lift him let alone wield him in combat. Hunk’s meister was going to have to be pretty damn impressive, which was a good thing. They were roommates and had made friend’s fast and Lance was willing to go out on a limb and say Hunk deserved an amazing meister. Not as amazing as the one Lance would score any day not but almost that good. 

“Class!” Coran, their instructor, clapped his hands as he entered the room. “We’re going to try an exercise today. Meisters on one side of the room, Bayards on the other.”

They all hurried to comply, lining up against the walls as told. Lance stood at the front of the line, Hunk right behind him. Shay, a muscular girl who’d apparently been at the school for an entire year without finding a weapon, was standing across from Lance. 

“Bayards, look at the person across from you then move up one. That is your partner for this exercise. Lance, you’ll be with...Shiro since he’s last.” 

Lance jumped in surprise then looked down the Meister line to see that indeed, Shiro was indeed at the far end of that line. Everyone started shuffling around to meet up with their partner but Lance stayed where he was, rooted to the spot. 

Was this..was he going to actually get to take to Shiro without Keith trying to glare holes into his head? Really?

“Lance, dude.” Hunk nudged him hard enough to make him sway on his feet. “Hurry up before Keith tries to jump into your spot.” 

A glance down the weapon line revealed a very pissed off looking Keith glaring up at the boy who was going to be his partner (Sendak something or other). He looked a few seconds away from murder and Shiro was already watching the pair with an anxious expression on his face. There had been a few other occasions where Keith or Shiro had gotten someone to switch with them for a class project but Lance wasn’t going to let that happen. 

Especially not if the alternative was Sendak. That guy had chronically sweaty hands and if this involved trying to change he didn’t want that guy touching him. 

Shiro though. Shiro could absolutely touch him. 

...wait, no. That sounded wrong. 

“Spend the next twenty minutes getting to know your partner, then we’ll switch.” Coran said from his place at the front of the room. “You can do that in any way you see fit but in my day we used to skip all of this ‘talking’ and just see how a bayard felt in our hands, judge the weight of it, try to move with it. Fight together if you could, see how your wavelengths matched up under pressure! Try to get a little bloody! There was nothing like wheeling students out on gurney’s at the start of term, let me tell you!

“I’m not sure if I approve of this new way of doing things but King Alfor’s rules are rules.” Their teacher sighed, looking like someone had kicked his puppy. Lance arched an eyebrow then looked sideways at Hunk who rolled his eyes good naturedly before stepping away to stand next to Shay. Lance crossed the room to where Shiro was, silently telling himself to breathe and not say anything incredibly dumb. Not that he was prone to saying dumb things, he liked to think he was pretty smooth actually, but he didn’t normally feel like his heart was about to jump out of his throat the minute he opened his mouth. 

Shiro looked away from Keith and his expression brightened as his eyes fell on Lance. “You want to sit?” 

On Shiro’s face maybe. 

Heat rushed up to his face almost as soon as the thought flitted through his mind. 

Oh. OH god, had that...where had that thought even come from, holy shit?! This was not the time to be perving on someone, for fucks sake. He needed to focus and use this to his advantage and oh fuck his entire life, Shiro’s lips curved up into a confused smile and why was his mouth so nice looking?

“Are you okay? You look red.” 

“Fine.” Lance said roughly. “Sitting. We should. Sit. Yes.”

Just about everyone else in the class had already claimed a table so it seemed like a good idea. Once they, and the rest of the class, were settled Coran whipped out a large egg timer and wound it up to the ‘20’. Their teacher sat behind his desk and whipped out a magazine, Castle Maintenance Monthly, which seemed to be a ‘get to it’ if ever Lance had seen one.

Okay then, it looked like ‘get to know each other’ was literally the only guidance they were getting with this. It wasn’t like that was vague at all. 

“So,” He started slowly, wanting to choose his words carefully lest those embarrassing thoughts burst free. “What should we-”

“Do you think you can transform?”

Lance choked. He had not expected that as an opener! Whatever happened to easing into a conversation, maybe talking about where they from or something before asking them to whip out their weapon form? What kind of person went straight for ‘hey, are you still a failure of a bayard or what?’ Which was basically what Shiro had asked, just in nicer words and with less mockery than Lance usually heard in people’s voices when they asked. And he got it, weapon that couldn’t change was essentially useless and couldn’t even train properly and it was sort of laughable that he was crashing and burning at the basics but it wasn’t like he’d be doing this a long time. 

Some people had their whole lives to work on this, well aware that they were from a bayard capable family and putting in work to meditate and shit like that well before their weapon form actually presented, but Lance had been taken by surprise. There hadn’t been a weapon in his family in 4 generations or something like that. He hadn’t even known it was a possibility. 

Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, warm even through Lance’s jacket and shirt, pulled him out of his annoyed thoughts. He glanced up to find the older teen didn’t look like he was about to start laughing or giving Lance shit, something that happened a lot in combat training with Iverson (If Lance had a dollar for every time he’d been the ‘don’t do this’ example he wouldn’t need the allowance the school gave him every week.) Shiro looked...apologetic. 

Lance wasn’t sure but it might had been worse than being laughed at. 

“If you can’t it’s not big deal. Not everyone-”

“No! I mean. It’s fine.” Lance muttered, looking away. “I can do it.”

It wasn’t like he’d ever backed down from anything before and what was the worst that happened, it didn’t work? Been there, done that. And if he did manage it, right here in front of all of everyone, that would be pretty badass and vindicating, wouldn’t it? He’d been working at it, in the training rooms later than anyone, running the courses until the sun went down and someone came to kick him out, studying the books, doing the breathing and focusing exercises. He was putting in the work, had to if he was going to surpass everyone else and become a Paladin Class bayard.

Only a few were selected from every class and only the top ranked was guaranteed a spot. Right now that looked like it was going to be Keith, especially if he teamed up with Shiro, and so being better than him was Lance’s goal.  

And maybe getting Shiro as his meister. 

This was the opening he’d wanted, right? If he, somehow, had some compatibility with Shiro, more than Keith seemed to, that would show everyone. And, as unlikely as that was, the look on Keith’s face as he got tossed over for Lance and was forced to acknowledge his greatness (and Lance was great, it just hadn’t come out yet) was the stuff of dreams. He could just picture it, the color draining from Keith’s skin, the way his lips would twist, how jealous he would no doubt be when Lance took the spot as top weapon in their year. 

Yeah. That. That was something worth trying for, almost more so than getting the top meister in the class as his partner. 

The change washed over him, a bright tingling warmth that rippled under his skin but somehow wasn’t quite as warm as Shiro’s hand still resting on his shoulder. But not actually on his shoulder because he didn’t have have a shoulder. 

It was a hard to put into words; not painful like he would have expected having his soul physically alter the chemical makeup of his body would be. No pulling or stretching or shrinking or feeling as if he was coming apart or unraveling. He’d see how it looked when other people did it, their bodies turning into blinding light, falling away and then twining back back together into their weapon form. It was freaky to watch but it didn’t *feel* anything like that. 

It was like...holding his breath and jumping into water, sinking into warm depths for a few heartbeats, becoming part of the water and flowing into a different shape. The only thing he could feel for a moment was the heat from Shiro’s hand, cutting through the warm floating feeling, tightening on him, and then he was bursting through the surface into chilly air and releasing the air caught in his lungs. Sound and light came back all at once. He still felt like himself, imagined himself still in his human body, but also was different. Outside of himself, able to see what was going around around him on all sides but inside himself, inside the different form. It was very...

Weird. 

Really weird, actually. 

What-

“Huh.” Shiro sounded surprised. The rest of the room had gone abruptly quiet and he could see Hunk, mouth open in mid-laugh, staring at them wide eyed. 

Lance felt like Hunk looked; he’d actually done it. He was in his bayard form!  

Another hand touched him, warm and calloused, while the first one gripped him tighter. There was a sense of vertigo for a second, of being too small and moving under someone else’s power, and he could see Shiro’s eyebrows were up and his eyes were bright. He could see himself too, in a way that was almost like having double vision. A rifle, like something out of a military movie, black with touches of blue. There was a blade below the barrel, or more like half a blade. It spanned most of the length of the barrel plus a few extra inches, looked like half of a triangle, starting wide and then tapering to a thing tip; the edge looked blunt. 

Shiro tapped the blade, brows furrowed then shrugged, perfectly echoing Lance’s feelings on that development. Weapon forms could often be unusual, more a reflection of the bayard’s soul than ‘real’ weapons. Still he hadn’t realized he was some sort of bladed weapon. Or that having someone touch him would feel so...like so much. As if every nerve in his body was suddenly awake, firing off at once, cranked all the way up. Just the careful way Shiro was touching the blunt blade was making his stomach clench and chills run up his spine. 

He bit down on his lip, blinking muzzily. 

Shiro’s finger swept over the muzzle and front sights, trailed over the barrel. Lance’s breath caught and, once again, heat rushed through him, a mixture of embarrassment and something else entirely. He wanted to grab something to hold onto in hopes of grounding himself but there was nothing where he was, a peculiar spot where his human body was, except himself, peering out. 

“You’re an energy rifle?” Shiro asked as his fingers continued their careful exploration, drifting over the rear sights and scope then down to sweep over his body. “So you use the energy from your partner's soul as ammo, so no magazine. That’s pretty rare.” 

His fingers brushed where Lance supposed a magazine was supposed to go but it was hard to focus because he felt like he was on fire. Every curious sweep of fingertips over him made him twitch and squirm. There was electricity sparking between them, arcing from Shiro’s fingers into him, setting his nerves alight, and then settling low in his gut.  

What was this? Was this supposed to happen? Did Shiro feel it too? Was it some side effect of fully transforming? Was he supposed to feel so... _ good _ ?

“Really light weight. I’ve never been able to lift a weapon aside from Keith but you’re not heavy at all.” Shiro added. His finger touched the trigger guard; Lance’s hands curled into fists. “I think-”

The tip of his finger barely made contact with his trigger and Lance jerked, shuddered all over, and let out a cry that he only just managed to muffle behind his hands. He fell apart again, white light drowning everything, was submerged in water again but only for a moment before he was pulled back out, gasping, and firmly back in his human form. 

And, he realized belatedly, in Shiro’s lap.

He clamored free, spilling onto the floor in a flurry of limbs. Someone snickered, it sounded an awful lot like Hunk but when Lance glared sharply in that direction his friend was wearing a painfully innocent expression.  

“Are you okay?” Shiro was on his feet, bending over him, face pink and hand outstretched to help him up. Lance stared at it wide eyed then shook his head. 

“Y-yeah. I’ve. ...bathroom.” 

He scurried to his feet and bolted, grateful he’d worn loose pants for a change of pace, and not daring to look back. 

He needed to be somewhere else. Alone. With his ill timed boner. That he’d gotten from being touched in weapon form. 

How was he going to be a paladin class weapon if he got hard just from being touched? No one else had ever said anything about having that sort of reaction. 

Was he some sort of freak? Or maybe it was just because that was the first time it had ever happened or-

No. No. He was officially a major pervert who was going to have his dreams dashed by his fucking dick. 

Wonderful. 

Maybe he could spend the rest of the day in the nurse’s office wallowing in shame. Nurse Haggar probably wouldn’t mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am absolutely going to write more of this. I've got plans for Lance and his weapon form and I mean. This was a lot of fun. 
> 
> If I'm being strictly honest I'd probably let Shiro 'have' both Lance and Keith. Because I'm that flavor of trash.


End file.
